


Sacrifices 8

by evieplease



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Cardiac, F/M, Physical Abuse, Red Carpet, Scotland, Tom's POV, Verbal Abuse, abusive boss, bj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:59:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5720143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieplease/pseuds/evieplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mayhem on the red carpet leads to an encounter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifices 8

I woke in the dark, rousing slowly from a dream to the reality of a warm, wet mouth traveling over my hard cock, my hips already moving into her stroke.

"Melissa..." I hissed her name in a whisper, the sound of her name echoing in my chest. I found the fingers of my right hand tangling in her hair, and the other laid across the back of her neck.

I wasn't guiding her at all, just keeping firm contact with her. I didn't need to guide her, she seemed to know my every thought; more there...oh yesss, suck...god fuck!...touch me with your tongue...hold me harder... 

"Ah god, please Melissa!" burst out of my mouth as she swallowed me, her tongue undulating along the underside of my cock.

In seconds she had me right on the edge, dangling over the abyss, every nerve lit and drawing into a hot pulsing ball. 

"Darling, I'm going to..." Christ she has to stop...my hands tugged up on her hair...

She responded by swallowing me deeper, I felt my cockhead hit the back of her throat as she cupped my balls in her hand.

I nearly bowed straight off the bed, my body balanced and supported on my heels and shoulders. I came so hard.

"Fuck! Melissa!" I grunted. Jesus, so so, hard! My heart thundered in my ears as I emptied into her mouth, and she swallowed around me, pulling more, taking more, taking all. of. me.

I collapsed back onto the bed limp and shaken. This girl... 

I reached down and tipped her head up, lifting mine to look into her face. She smiled serenely at me, then she grinned wickedly, and slowly licked her lips. I burst out laughing. Jesus, this woman!

I sat up, swiftly slid my hands under her arms, and pulled her up my body. She stopped my laughter with a searing kiss. She tastes of herself...and me. I could feel my cock already trying to twitch back to life before she pulled smiling back.

"Good morning." She said.

"Well, it certainly is now!" I grinned back. I craned my head to check the time on the bedside clock.

"5 am?? Melissa darling, are you by any chance a morning person?"

She wriggled against me. "How did you guess?" She laughed at me and traced a fingertip around one nipple. A sudden flash of heat, and I felt my cock fill insistently.

I rolled us over and crawled over top of her, aligning my body with hers. I lowered myself to brush my body against hers, longing to feel her glorious, velvety soft skin. Reaching her mouth I kissed her, her mouth blossoming open under mine, tongue returning my strokes. Her hands settled on my back, tugging me a little closer. Soon she was rubbing her entire body against mine like a cat. I lowered onto my forearms, framed on either side of her head, and smiled my joy into her warm, dark eyes. Settling my weight onto her, I held her pinned to the bed, to me.

We stirred at the same moment, and by some mutual consent, began to grind our hips against each other.

"Fuck me, Tom...please fuck me," she whispered.

Reaching down, I pulled her leg up over my hip, slipping my hand under her thigh to her arse. Holding her there, I lifted her hips and angled myself into her.

The heat and wet of her drew my cock in like a magnet, and I slid into her slowly, inch by inch, savoring the stunning feel of her surrounding me in this most fundamental, primal way. Slowly, deliberately, we rocked into each other, back and forth, boats rocking on a languid ocean, staring into each other's eyes.

This...this is sublime.

Her heels have crept up and are now digging into my arse, using my body as anchor and lever as she drives herself up onto me. Christ, the feel of her against my cock makes me want to weep. I begin to feel that familiar tingle at the base of my spine, the heating flush spreading over my belly, groin and thighs. My balls are tightening and pulling up against my body.

I let myself ride that edge for just a moment longer, and then I have to change up. I don't want to come yet, God, I never want to stop. I drag myself out of her, sitting back on my heels, I watch her frantically seeking hips. Grasping them, I pull her up the slope of my thighs, seating myself once again in her heat.

I lift her up until she’s sitting on my thighs, her knees spread wide around me and wrap my arms around her, holding her body in place for my thrusts. Her arms around my shoulders, hands clutching at the back of my hair, scratching at my neck as she cries out.

“Touch yourself, darling…” I murmur in her ear. She doesn’t have to be told twice. Her hand snakes down between our bodies, her fingers sliding into her folds. I feel the back of her hand pressing against my lower belly and pelvis, adding to the pressure building there, beginning to blind me. 

I need to be deeper, deeper in her, pushing her down onto her back and lifting her knees on my elbows, nearly folding her in half. I feel the first tremor run through her, and then she’s arched up, her head thrown back, her pussy clamping down on me like a vise, milking me, pulling my own release from me, my rhythm stuttering, wringing me inside out. 

Gasping, I finally collapse over her, catching myself at the last to not crush her, panting heavily into the pillow beside her head. I can hear her breathing just as hard in my ear, and then she begins to laugh her joyous laugh.

***

Tom had ordered breakfast up before we showered, which was fortunate, because that meant that at least one of us had to be dressed to open the door and sign for our meal.

Without the expected arrival of breakfast I probably wouldn't have tried very hard to fend him off in the shower. I twit Tom about his age by calling him Grandad, but dear god, he shows no signs of slowing down in that department. He’s more like the mouse in that children’s book “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie”… I giggled into my coffee cup as I sat at our breakfast table near the window overlooking Edinburgh. If You Show a Tom a Breast…he’ll want more, oh yes.

Unfortunately I was actually beginning to feel a bit, um, sore.

I leaned back in my chair, enjoying the life-giving cup of coffee, and caught a glimpse of Tom through the partially open bathroom door, white towel around his slim waist, broad back and shoulders dotted with water droplets catching the light from the ceiling fixture. Tom was humming some quiet tune as he shaved, the muscles of his back flexing and bunching with his movements as he scraped foam and whiskers off. 

I liked those whiskers, that scruff. I’ve enjoyed it immensely whenever he’d scrape his scruff deliberately over my inner thighs… I sighed and tore my gaze away from him, squirming slightly. There’s no point in getting tuned up again this morning. I’m too sore, and we have things to do today. I checked the time on the clock. Plenty of time for breakfast and dressing before we have to leave to pick up Felicia, and spring James from hospital. Not enough time for Tom to get up to his tricks.

I watched him stroll from the bath wiping the last remnants of shaving cream from his face with a towel, his chest bare, and another towel slung low over his hips, nearly regretting the lack of time. I shifted in my seat to remind myself of my other reason for not leaping out of my seat and ravishing him. Again.

I averted my eyes, hiding my thoughts behind my coffee cup, possibly praying to any deities listening, biting my lip for distraction. A low chuckle sounded.

“You really do have the most expressive face, little girl…” he teased and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I coloured and he laughed.

“Dear god, Grandad, put some damn clothes on! You’ll kill me with all that…!”

Tom snickered as he walked away, dat ass very apparent under the damn towel. I’m very afraid I might be developing an addiction. Or an obsession.

He dressed quickly, slacks and a buttoned blue shirt, sleeves turned up at the elbows, and came to sit at the table as he fastened his watch around his wrist. Pulling his plate closer, he snapped open his serviette and set it in his lap. I poured him a cup of coffee and went back to my eggs, determinedly reading the complimentary newspaper that came with our breakfast cart. I’m not entirely sure what the article I was reading was about, but it was fascinating. 

I picked up my mobile as it rumbled across the table and looked at the screen. Mum. Why is Mum calling? God, I hope everything...

I shrugged apologetically at Tom and swiped the call open.

"Mum?"

"Put me on with him, I have something to say to him." She sounded implacable.

I burst out laughing.

My mum is the best Mum in the world. I love her to pieces, and I know she loves me beyond reason. She's my best friend. She's funny and irreverent, fierce and loving, and she has always, always had my back. But sometimes Mum can be a bit much. I laughed at the thought of handing her over to Tom. Or rather, at the thought of handing Tom over to her.

"No! Mum, are you off your meds?!" I widened my eyes comically at Tom as I laughed.

"No, of course not! You know I'm not on meds!" she said indignantly.

"Well Jesus, Mum! Maybe you should get some!" I teased.

"Melissa Marie, do as I ask!"

"Mum, please..." Silence on the line as she waited for me to comply. I put the phone on my chest and looked apologetically at Tom, my eyes wide. 

"It's my mum," I grimaced. "She...she wants to talk to you." I felt myself colouring.

Tom's eyebrows went straight up into his hairline. Because of my mother's insistence on talking to him? Or because I was willing to let her? I honestly don’t know.

His eyebrows came down and he smiled slowly. A very toothy and wolfish smile. I had a sudden urge to giggle. Mum just may have met her match… Tom extended his hand for my mobile. I don't see that I have much choice in the matter. Well, other than sprinting for the loo and dropping my mobile in. Besides, I'm curious. My besetting sin...

I looked at Tom and raised my eyebrows. "Are you sure about this?" He smirked and made a 'bring it' gesture. "On your own head be it, then. Um, don't take anything she says too seriously, right?"

I clicked over to speaker, as he nodded. "Mum, this is my friend Thomas." Tom eyebrows twitched quizzically at my introducing him by his proper name. She's going to call him by it anyway, she does that with everyone. "Tom, this is my mother, Lillian." 

Tom took my mobile out of my hand and held it between us, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Lillian.” he greeted, both amused and a bit wary. Possibly expecting a parental dressing down. Bet it’s been a damn long time since anyone’s mother called him to chew him out! I could hear my mother’s voice clearly.

“Thomas.”

Dead silence. Mum's patented maneuver to get miscreants to blurt out their sins. I bit my lip. It still works on me after all these years, if I don't restrain myself. I grinned at Tom, waiting to see if he'll fall for it, prepared to rescue him if he does.

Tom’s lips quirked. Mother doesn’t have a deferent bone in her body. Was he expecting a fangirl? His face moved through amusement, wry acknowledgement of her ploy, and fetched up at a bit sheepish. But he had the fortitude to wait her out. At last Mum spoke again.

“Did you abscond with my daughter Thomas?" She asked plainly.

"No!..." he paused, then "...well, yes, I suppose I did…” he slanted a grin at me, not seeming repentant in the least.

That's my Mum. She can maneuver the guilty into confession in nothing flat. Even those who aren’t guilty. I must admit, I kind of grinned at Tom succumbing to Mum so quickly. But I could see him rapidly reassessing his opponent. She's formidable, my Mum.

“Don’t fuck with my daughter, Thomas.” she said in a far too aggressive warning tone. My mouth fell open. Ok, that went 12 steps further than I thought she'd go! Fucking hell.

“Jesus, Mum! I’m not fourteen!” I said loudly, so that she’d hear me, and dear god let her stop! Tom’s eyes narrowed, and he paused briefly, considering his words carefully, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Is that what pissed off looks like on Tom?

“I don’t ‘fuck’ with women, Lillian.” he growled. “And Melissa is quite right, she’s a grown woman.”

“But she’s not in your league is she, Thomas?” Mum snapped back. Oh fuck me, this is going from bad to worse… I shielded my eyes with my hand, huffing out an embarrassed laugh. Because really, with Mum it’s laugh or tear my hair out, isn’t it?

After a brief silence on his part, I peeked through my fingers at him. His eyes are on me, soft and gentle.

“No, Lillian,” he said quietly, “I’d say rather that I’m not in her league…but I intend to move up.” he declared more firmly, dipping his chin decisively at me.

I blinked and my mouth fell open in astonishment. What? I don’t…

“Lillian, I think I adore your daughter. I wouldn’t hurt her for worlds…”

Ok, here come the tears. Can he possibly mean that?

A longish silence from Mum. I think he may have surprised her.

“Alright, Thomas. I’ll take you at your word. Which Sunday can you join us for supper?”

I choked. For fuck's sake, did Mum just invite Tom to Sunday dinner?? Tom briefly grinned at me in a kind of bashful sort of triumph, but then had the good sense to look a bit worried as he looked back down at the phone.

“I’ll…have to check, actually. I’ll get back to you on that, shall I?” Firmly, as if he had every intention of getting right on that. Christ, he may have got Mum in the palm of his hand.

I heard Mum hum skeptically. “Alright…”

“Right. What’s your number?” He pulled his phone out and waited for her to dictate her number. Well, shit. Now Tom has my mother’s number stored in his mobile, it occurs to me, but not my own!

“Thank you, Lillian. I look forward to meeting you. I’m sorry for the need to check my calendar first, but I’ve some professional engagements coming up soon that I really can’t avoid…” He was staring off over my shoulder, but his eyes came back to my face.

“Lillian, you know your girl is brilliant?”

My breath caught.

My Mum chuckled. “Well, you’re fairly bright, anyway... Call me when you know your schedule. We will work you in somehow!” Damn, now she’s joking with him!

“Cheers, Lillian. It was good speaking to you. Talk to you soon.”

“Yes, goodbye, Thomas.” Mum hung up, and Tom stood looking at my mobile as his thumb moved over the end call button. He sat on the sofa arm and held my mobile out to me.

I stood gaping at him, as I took it. “You realize that you have my mother’s number, but not mine, right?”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me, darling.” He pulled my mobile back and entered a number, waiting for the call to go through. His phone rang. He lifted my mobile and took my picture, mailing it away. His phone chimed with a text.

“Now I’ll always be able to reach you, even if you don’t answer." He grinned slyly, slanting a look at me. "All I have to do is stay on your mother’s good side…”

I began to giggle. I waggled a finger at him, right under his nose. "See that you do!"

We both began to laugh, carrying on for a good few tension reducing moments. Tom sobered as he looked at me. Um.

“I can handle your Mum. It’s you I…” He took a breath. “Melissa, darling you knock the breath out of me.”

His regard enveloped me and he leaned over to kiss me deeply, pulling back to stare into my eyes. “I meant every word, darling. Every. One.”

Yeah. I’m not having this conversation right now. I searched for something to change the subject when my eye fell on the time. Thank god. I chivvied him to finish his breakfast and go, so we wouldn’t be late picking up Felicia.

I stood and watched, amazed, as the stiffly frozen bitch of yesterday morphed into a worried wife, fussing about whether she had brought warm enough clothing for James to travel home in, and whether she should bring his shaver, or a lap rug for the car.

The change in her, as if she had lost all her defensive armour in the face of needing to care for James, was remarkable. I watched Tom watching her, his expression a bit bemused and puzzled. He stood at the open car door, watching Felicia flutter nervously on the front step , searching her bag for her keys to lock up behind her. Is this the first time he's ever seen her at a disadvantage? Tom strode up the path to her and took the bag of James' clothing gently out of her hands. He looked almost bewildered for a moment, as he pulled the strap over his shoulder, waited for her to lock the door, and held a hand out tentatively to guide Felicia to the car.

He cleared his throat gruffly. "It'll be alright, Felicia." 

She looked up at him vaguely, obviously so wrapped up in her worry that she wasn't really paying attention. A tear trickled unexpectedly down her cheek, as she lifted her head, and that's all it took to pull Tom into motion. Tom wrapped a long arm around his stepmother's shoulder in a slightly awkward, meant to be comforting hug.

"He'll be fine, Felicia. He doesn't need all that...all he needs is you." His head ducking down to catch her attention. Felicia burst into instant tears, hiding her face in her hands, and turning in toward him.

"Dear god, Thomas, I've been so worried over your father! I don't know how to... I was so afraid...!" she sobbed. “The house is so empty without him. I need him…” Tom looked over her head at me, his eyes wide, and back down at the silver haired woman who had been his nemesis for so many years, her head buried in his chest and sobbing heartbrokenly.

Tom wrapped both arms around her and rocked her. 

"Shh, Felicia. It's ok. We'll take good care of him, the two of us. Don't you worry!" Tom held her and rocked her comfortingly as he murmured into her silver hair. She just cried quietly into his chest for a moment. 

My own eyes filled with tears as I watched a piece of the wall between them fall. I felt a sudden desire to go home myself, a sharp unexpected longing, wanting my own Mum. Shaking it off, I pulled the strap of my camera bag up my arm, and wiped my eyes, before turning back.

"Come on you two! Get moving! I'm sure James is champing at the bit to get home for that promised decent cup of tea. Go and get him!"

Tom kept his arm around Felicia as he walked her to the rental.

Transferring James home from hospital went smoothly, despite Felicia’s tendency to fuss. James was quite good-natured about it, teasing and flirting with her, soon setting her to giggles. I’d catch Tom staring at her with the oddest expression whenever her laugh rang out at some outrageous comment or intimate whisper of James’s.

Tom helped his Dad into the house and gently up the stairs to his room, Felicia and I trailing behind.

Really it’s difficult to beware of this Felicia, laughing and joking with James, occasionally sending a quip Tom’s way. The change in her demeanor is quite remarkable. I cocked my head, considering her. This much change can’t just be because Tom offered her comfort. There's something else…

James refused to get into bed, preferring to sit in an armchair near the window overlooking the small back garden. Felicia fluttered about him, fetching him a cushion for his back, and a glass of water at his elbow. He sent Tom off to get his things from the car and quizzed me teasingly about whether I knew how to make a proper cuppa before sending me off to find the kitchen. I caught sight of him pulling a delighted and laughingly protesting Felicia onto his lap with a growled “Alone at last, my love!”, as I left the room. I shook my head with a small laugh as I went down the stairs, Felicia’s giggles echoing in my ears.

It’s a homey kitchen, with a big family table, yellow walls and blue cupboards, the rare Scottish sun streaming in the window over the sink. l busied myself with tea prep and biscuits, finding cups and tray. I heard the front door open and close, and Tom treading up the stairs, shortly to return looking a bit shell-shocked.

He pulled a chair out from the table and sprawled rather gracelessly in it, covering his face and groaning, muttering between his fingers.

“I just walked in on Dad and Felicia snogging hell out of each other. I swear he had his hand up her skirt…! He’s a heart patient for pity’s sake! That can’t be good for him so soon after-“ 

I turned and leaned against the counter, folding a tea towel and smiling at him.

“Oh nonsense, Tom!” I interrupted him. “What better way to mend a heart than to have your love on your lap? It’s perfectly understandable. He’s been sleeping away from her and pretty well helpless for the last few days. It seems like a natural thing to want to, well…reassert his masculinity with his wife after such a scare. What’s more life affirming than a good snog?”

Tom shook his head ruefully and winced. “Yes, but he’s my Dad!” his eyes wide.

I laughed and dropped the tea towel on the counter, going over and sitting on his lap, draping my arms around his neck, smiling fondly into his face.

“Surely this can’t be the first time you’ve walked in on your parents, Thomas?!”

He grimaced. “Well yes, it is, actually. That’s the first time I’ve ever been in their bedroom!” He pulled me closer and pressed his face into my chest. “I could have gone a lot longer without that image in my head!”

“Poor baby…” I stroked his curls. “I’m sure we’ll find some way to heal your broken psyche!”

He snickered into my cleavage like a naughty teenager, then lifted his head with a wide-eyed innocent look. “However shall we do that? I must be scarred for life!”

I opened my mouth to reply just as the kettle whistled. I jumped off his lap and went to fix the tea, bringing it to the table and sitting in a chair to pour out.

“I think we’ll just give the lovebirds a bit of time to themselves.”

Tom picked up his spoon, stirring his tea idly. He glanced upward at the ceiling, a small worried frown on his face.

“Seriously, do you think that’s ok? I mean, would his cardiologist approve?”

“Tom, you’ve been watching Felicia all morning. Do you really think that she would allow him to injure himself? I think you can trust him with her, don’t you?”

He sipped his tea thoughtfully. “You know, before today, I wouldn’t have thought so. But watching her… it’s like a butterfly crawled out of her cocoon.”

He slumped. “I never gave her a chance, did I? I hated her from the moment I learned of her, before we even met… I…I suppose I couldn’t stand the thought of her taking my mother’s place, despite them not meeting until two years after The Divorce.”

I could hear the capital letters in his voice. ‘The Divorce’. I reached over and took one of his hands in mine, squeezing lightly and sitting quietly with him while he sorted his thoughts.

A delicate throat cleared and we both looked up at Felicia standing in the doorway. Tom stood.

“Oh Thomas,” she said. “Please don’t stand on ceremony with me. Not anymore.” She lifted a hand and he took it, giving it a small squeeze.

“Not if you don’t like it, Felicia.” he said quietly.

She smiled and released his hand, stepping back. “Your father has gone grumbling to his rest, he’s fast asleep. I was wondering if you’d pop ‘round to the shops with me? There are just one or two things…?”

“Certainly.” Tom turned to me. “Darling, do you mind?”

“Of course not!” I said. “Felicia,” I grinned at her around Tom, “Please take this boy out and put him to some good use… He’s pretty good at carrying bags and the like.”

Felicia snickered over Tom’s protested “Hey!”

“You two get on then.” I shoo-ed them out. “I’ll keep an ear out for James, but I’m sure he’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him, right?”

So Tom helped Felicia on with her coat, shrugged into his own jacket and picked up a handful of cloth carrier bags on their way out the door.


End file.
